More Than Just A Dream
by opalheart12
Summary: The war is past. Hermione lost her memory and is living in NYC, that is until two unexpected visitors show up and change the life she has carefully built around her. Will she finally get answers for the nightmares she's been having? Will she find out who is responsible for her memory loss in the first place? Rated M for later.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Don't own any of this. Just an idea I got after listening to a few songs. Just writing it as I go along. Enjoy.**_

_She was running again, away from all the screams and bodies but it seemed the farther she ran, the more of these she encountered. She tripped and fell, her face tingling in dull pain as she turned over on her back. She tried to stand again but a boot was shoved into her throat. Her eyes traveled up the legs of her assailant and the rest of their body until they landed on the face._

_He had platinum blond hair and bright gray eyes. His expression was one of loathing and smugness. "Quite the compromising position you're in here." he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But, no matter. You shall not remember it either way." He held a stick in his right hand and was pointing it directly at her. His face softened for a moment and despite her gasping for air, she felt so confused. _

"_I'm sorry." was all he said before a rush of noise filled her ears and a bright green light clouded her vision and everything went black._

She sat straight up in her bed, sweat drenching her entire body. Her breathing was heavy as she glanced over at her alarm clock and noticed the time was 6a.m. The first rays of morning were beginning to peak through her bedroom. She ran a hand through her wild hair and tried to steady her breathing. She'd been having the same nightmare and other similar ones for the past six months, ever since her first day working at Phoenix Unlimited in New York City. No one knew about her dreams, and she wanted to keep it that way.

After a few more moments of trying to compose herself, she finally rose from the bed and went into the bathroom to shower. She scrubbed hard at her skin as she always did when she showered after waking up from her nightmares. The sun was halfway up when she finished getting dressed for work. There was no time for breakfast and besides, she doubted her stomach could handle it after the dream she'd had.

The walk to her job was relatively short, it being that it was a five minute walk from her apartment to the Phoenix Unlimited tower. It was tall and made almost entirely of glass and steel, giving the impression that it was always shimmering. It made her smile slightly as she walked inside.

"Good morning, and welcome to Phoenix Unlimited. The current temperature outside is 60 degrees with a 20% chance of rain and a high of 85 degrees. Please enjoy your day." The automated system that was programmed to welcome and give a weather report was now set to go off every 30 minutes throughout the day.

Despite the early hour, there were many people in the lobby of Phoenix Unlimited getting into the many elevators to their designated floors. She stepped into a relatively empty one and pressed the button that would take her to the 37th floor where all the assistants for logistics management, marketing, and CEO were stationed. Her desk was all the way at the back of the somewhat crowded room that contained about ten desks.

"Good morning, Jean." A coworker whose name she never could place said to her as she walked over to the coffee machine.

"You're here early, Ms. Black." Someone else observed as she got settled in at her desk.

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to get a head start on all the paperwork and appointments so it doesn't get too bad later. I'm sure Mr. Bradley will be grateful. " Jean said with a smile. Her eyes wandered over to the small mirror she always kept beside her desk. She very quickly assessed her appearance.

Her hair was in a slightly haphazard ponytail and she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she usually wore today. There were still dark circles under her eyes and she felt like she hadn't slept a single hour the previous night. If the nightmares continued, she was sure she would never be able to sleep again.

"She's not here at the moment. She must have only just left." A man with black, messy hair and emerald eyes said as he walked around Jean's apartment.

"Bit plain, isn't it? Not like her." His companion, a taller man with fire red hair and hazel eyes replied as his eyes wandered around the scantily furnished apartment.

The walls were stark white and there were no decorations or pictures on them. All that could be seen in the living room was a sofa, television, and lamp. There was a small table off to the side closest to the kitchen. Her bedroom only contained her bed and a lamp and her medium walk-in closet didn't appear to have nearly as much as it should inside.

The tall man with black hair picked up a piece of mail he saw on the counter in the kitchen and read out loud the name on it. "Jean Black. Is that what she's calling herself?"

The other man shrugged and sat down on the sofa. "That's how they set her up here. Maybe they wanted to remember as little as possible. Memory charms aren't always permanent, depending on the intent of the person that cast it."

The black haired man looked at his friend, a slightly surprised look on his face. "True, but we still don't even know who cast the oblivion charm on her to begin with. There was so much going on."

Silence engulfed the apartment for the first time since the two men had entered Jean's apartment. They were both caught up in their own thoughts before either spoke again.

"Should we take action tonight?" The red haired man asked, his voice sounding cautious.

His companion shook his head. "I don't think we should. At least not now. We should see how she's living her life. We'll give her a week and have constant surveillance on her. She's gotten along this long without our help. She'll be fine."

"Harry, it's been nearly 9 months since she's been...herself. We're lucky St. Mungo's was able to rehab her enough in those 3 months to get her functioning this normally. I want my friend back."

"I know, Ron." Harry replied, his voice taking on a tone of sadness. "I know. But, trust me. We'll do it soon. If we do it now she could get overwhelmed and that...wouldn't do us any good."

Ron sighed in response and ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes closed. "What if she's happier? What if we just shouldn't even-"

"Ron, we won't know any of that until we tell her. She may seem happy right now, but I know she isn't. Memory or not, she probably has nightmares of the war and nothing to explain them. If she were...herself...I think she would want us to tell her." Harry said as he stared out of the window.

"Is there any way to get her memory back?"

His question was met with silence for a few moments before Harry was able to answer. "I don't know. You remember what happened with Lockhart. There's no telling, honestly. But telling her is...if we tell her, something might trigger, and that could either be good or bad."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Don't own anything. Hope you guys enjoy!**_

"Mr. Bradley, your appointment with Mr. DiLaura from Barrington Incorporated has been canceled. His wife went into labor earlier this morning and he said he will be unavailable for the next week." Jean rattled off as she paced in front of Mr. Bradley's desk.

Mr. James Bradley was the CEO of Phoenix Unlimited and Jean had the privilege of being his assistant. Bradley was a lot nicer and easier to deal with than the other CEOs, CFOs, and COOs. He was a relatively young man whose face bore no appearance of running a large conglomerate like Phoenix. He had dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and always wore a black or blue suit. His light caramel skin seemed to bring out his eyes and gave the feeling of being watched like a hawk.

"Remind me to send flowers and a card. She wasn't due for another three weeks." he commented softly as he peered through the stack of mostly signed paperwork Jean brought for him to complete. She'd done as much as she'd been able to do in order to lessen Bradley's work load.

"Yes, of course, sir. Also, Mr. Addison from logistics has a request for transfer that needs to be signed and processed within the next week or so." Jean continued to rattle off the many things the CEO of Phoenix Unlimited needed to get around to and it felt like she was talking for more than an hour.

"Ms. Black?" Bradley interrupted softly, his eyes searching her face carefully.

Jean paused mid-sentence and glanced over at Mr. Bradley. "Yes, sir?"

He frowned at her before standing from his desk to walk in front of her. He stood still, examining her face more closely. "How long has it been since you've last slept?"

Jean felt her face fall and she quickly looked away. "Last night, sir."

There was no way she would tell her boss she hadn't had a decent night's sleep for as long as she could remember. The last six months had been filled with nightmares and plain old dreams with people that felt familiar to her but were strangers.

"Don't lie to me, Ms. Black. I know sleep deprivation when I see it."

Jean answered this with silence and began tugging on her bottom lip, praying to anything and everything that Bradley wouldn't fire her today. So what if she was sleep deprived? Coffee had done wonders to keep her awake at work and it wasn't even affecting how she did her work. She hadn't thought anyone, let alone Bradley, would have noticed. A feeling of annoyance and relief simultaneously filled her.

"I'm quite fine, sir." Jean replied steadily.

Bradley sighed and stepped back. "Jean, I'm sorry, but I believe it would be in your best interest if you took the rest of the week off. Its only Wednesday so you'll only miss two days. Come back on Monday feeling better, yeah?"

Jean was stunned. "But, sir, your appointments and-"

"I'll be fine, Jean. I can make it for two days without you." He smiled softly and escorted her out to her desk giving her strict instructions not to worry.

Jean sighed as she gathered her purse and put the top on her portable coffee cup. Maybe Bradley was right. Taking a few days off would be good for her. She could stop off at the pharmacy on the way back to her apartment and get some sleeping aids. Maybe those would help her get a night of restful sleep.

Soon, she was back at her apartment with sleeping aids, pizza, and a large tub of ice cream. There was no way she wouldn't get good rest with these on hand. She smiled to herself as she went to put the ice cream in the freezer. Just then, a stabbing pain bloomed across her forehead and the ice cream tumbled to the floor as she did.

_Everything was blurry. People were moving all around her. Colored lights were everywhere and she couldn't breathe. Where had he gone? They were supposed to meet and yet she saw no sign of him in all the madness. All he had to do was hurry to her and they could be gone. So, what was taking so long? Had something gone wrong?_

_She spun around in circles, her hair whipping at her face, but saw no sign of him amongst all the people battling each other. Tears sprung to her eyes as the inevitable sunk in. He probably was dead. Then, she knew what she had to do. She had to run. _

_The Time-Turner in her pocket felt heavier and heavier as she tried to reach the apparation point. She thought she was running pretty fast but every step felt far too slow and she knew she had to hurry. Suddenly, her foot hit something relatively soft and she looked down as she feel. It was a body. _

Jean's eyes shot open and tears she hadn't felt were streaming down her face silently. She was shaking and her head felt like someone had stepped on it. She tried to stand and walk to her room but found that her legs were shaking too hard to do so. She opted for the sofa instead.

She pulled herself up onto the sofa, breathing heavily as she yanked the blanket that always occupied the end of the sofa toward her. The shaking was subsiding, though instead of feeling warm, she felt a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature. Pulling the blanket all the way up to her chin, Jean began to stare intently at the ceiling, as if it could provide answers for her.

Then she began to sob.

Her dreams weren't making an ounce of sense to her. She always remembered the general idea of what happened in her dreams but could never seem to recall anything too specific to put together. It drove her absolutely insane. She wished she didn't feel so alone, but she had no family and no real friends. Sure, she got on with her coworkers but they weren't people Jean would consider friends.

At the moment, a sadness and longing filled her heart, making her chest hurt. She was missing something (or someone?) and she didn't even know why, who, or what it was she was missing. Somewhere in her mind, Jean knew that she hadn't always been this...lonely. She had friends growing up, friends she knew cared about her. But now, where were they? All grown up and living their lives and starting families, not bothering to even ask how she was doing or if she needed anything. There was no one.

Jean Black cried and cried until she couldn't even remember what made her cry in the first place. She cried herself into an exhausted sleep as the last rays of the day exited her living room.

* * *

"How's it been?" Bradley asked the guests in his office the next day as he poured himself a glass of fire whiskey.

"She's having nightmares. What about, I have no idea. But I do believe she needs to know the truth. We have to tell her sometime soon." his guest replied.

Bradley sighed and took a long drink from his glass. "I sent her home for two days. There's your window of opportunity, Harry."

Harry chose to drank the glass of fire whiskey in front of him. Ron took that chance to speak. "I've heard tell of dementors not far from here. Perhaps if we could lure one over near her apartment..."

Harry and Bradley gave a sharp glare in Ron's direction. "You can't possibly." Bradley said incredulously.

Ron shrugged. "It would save us from having to explain each and everything. For all we know, that might make her remember some things."

The three of them were silent as they contemplated that thought. Finally, Bradley spoke again. "As the minister for magic in the United States of America, I must tell you that what you are suggesting is absolutely illegal. We do things differently here than in the United Kingdom. I am not just some puppet. I could have you imprisoned in Alcatraz."

Ron paled. "Alcatraz? The muggle prison?"

Bradley smiled humorlessly. "No longer. We converted it to a wizard prison the same year it closed, in 1963. Of course the wards around it make the muggles believe its abandoned and haunted."

"No dementors then." Harry answered shortly, his jaw twitching,

Bradley turned around from the window he was staring out of and gave the men a curious look. "I'm sure if one of_ you_ happened to find a dementor and lead it on a chase near her apartment...well, that's different."

Harry stared in disbelief at Bradley. "You can't be serious!"

"I see no other way." Ron replied, looking between Bradley and Harry.

Harry sighed and stood up. "There is. We show up to her apartment and just tell her the truth. She'll believe us. She's desperate. She's going to want an explanation for the nightmares she's having. For all we know, her nightmares could just be repressed memories."

Ron looked over at Bradley who nodded thoughtfully. After a long while, Bradley cleared his throat. "Fine. Tell her. But leave me out of it. I don't want her to know who I really am just yet. I'd rather tell her myself."

Harry shook Bradley's hand firmly as he and Ron began to leave. "Thanks, Jim. We really appreciate you looking after her since she's been here."

Bradley smiled at Harry. "Hey, now, you set me up with Victoria Emerson from your DMLE, so it's the least I can do. Just promise me you'll update me when you're back in the UK with her."

Harry and Ron nodded and apparated to Jean's apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: So happy that this story is getting positive feedback so far! Glad you guys are liking it! As usual, I don't own any of this. Now, onward.**_

Harry and Ron apparated with a loud pop to Jean's bedroom. Luckily, she wasn't in there. They walked into the living room and saw her passed out on the sofa, tear tracks streaking from her eyes. Her hair was as unruly as ever and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her skin had taken on a pallor that neither Ron nor Harry had ever been used to.

Peering into the kitchen, Harry noticed that an ice cream container was on the floor and dented, as if it had been dropped. A box of pizza lay untouched on the stove top. He turned around and went back to where Ron was standing.

"Should we wake her?" Ron asked softly, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

Harry grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "No. Let her sleep. From what Bradley told us, she needs it." he said quietly.

Ron nodded and pointed his wand at her. "_Stupefy._"

A bright red light shot out from the end of Ron's wand and Jean twitched softly in her sleep, her head lolling off to the side. Harry picked her up and instructed Ron to pack all of her clothes into a bag. Ten minutes later, Ron hoisted the bag up on his shoulder and took hold of Harry and they apparated with a pop.

* * *

They landed in Harry's home. It was dark, silent, and a bit dusty as Harry hadn't been there in a few weeks. He's spent six months trying to get a lead on where his friend was and who was responsible for what happened to her, and he was no closer to figuring any of it out than he was right now.

After tucking Jean in upstairs in the guest room, Ron began to make dinner. Harry grabbed the files he had on Jean from the table and began to sift through them. He quietly agonized over the fact that his friend's memory had been tampered with. There might not be a way for her to regain it.

"Harry," Ron said as he set a bowl of stew in front of him. "Do you still have the penseive from Dumbledore's office?"

Harry's head shot up and a smile bloomed across his face. He grabbed Ron and pulled him toward him. "You're a genius." He said before kissing him and sprinting upstairs to his office. Ron shook his head and sat down to begin eating.

A clunking noise was heard all the way down the stairs and finally Harry appeared with the penseive. He pushed it up against the wall and sat back down in front of the files, his momentary happiness now declining rapidly. He looked up at Ron with a frown on his face.

"How are we going to extract her memories? How would we even know which ones to extract in the first place?" he asked as he gathered a spoonful of stew before eating it.

Ron tugged at his lip in silence before sighing loudly. "We'll have to wait until she's awake. She has to know who we are and what we're doing first. We don't want to scare her off."

As much as Harry didn't want to, he knew Ron was right. It wouldn't do to just take random memories from Jean's head. Instead, he ate his stew in silent thought. He thought back to the last day of the war.

"_Ron, where is she? Where's Hermione?" Harry asked after he left Dumbledore's office. _

_Ron ran a hand through his hair as he tried to catch his breath. His forehead was shining with sweat and his eyes were watering. "I can't find her." That was all Harry needed to hear before he tore through the halls and down the stairs in search of his best friend._

_Ron was surprisingly able to keep up with Harry's brisk pace, though by the time they finally stopped outside the castle, he seemed to be out of breath. They looked all around them. There were people everywhere and for those who lay on the ground there was no clear discernment of the living and the dead. He ran forward, attempting to examine each person in hopes that none of them would be Hermione. He soon realized how impossible this would be._

"_I can't find her! What if she's—"_

"_Harry, please. Don't. She's Hermione. There's no way she could—"_

"_WELL, WHERE IS SHE?"_

_His chest felt as if it might cave in any second and his breathing seemed to speed up too fast along with his heart. There was no way she was gone. She couldn't be._

A tapping noise roused Harry from his thoughts and he saw that Ron was taking his bowl away from him and had tossed the spoon in the sink. He yawned and stood up to stretch. At least they'd found Hermione, but he wasn't sure if he could even be happy. His best friend had her memory obliviated and was now calling herself Jean Black. It upset him greatly that he still didn't know who'd done this to her.

* * *

The manor was just as dreary as it had been for the last two years. There seemed to be no life within it, though the Malfoys had not opted to leave their manor due to a few murders that had taken place there. The house elves were still trying to scrub blood from the floors months later. The manor no longer felt spacious and peaceful. Now it was just haunting and terrifying.

Draco walked through the manor feeling smaller than he ever had in his life despite his 6'3 frame. He only had one thing on his mind: the love of his life.

Thunder boomed outside and lightning struck near a hill not too far away, lighting the manor briefly in a ghostly pale light. Rain slapped against the window and the howling of the wind rivaled that of a werewolf. Despite the many portraits and statues that decorated the hall he was currently in, it still felt cold and unfamiliar.

Finally, he came to the door at the end and pushed it open. His mother was asleep on the couch in the corner. One of the house elves had graced her with a blanket and a roaring fire. Draco gently woke her up and brought her to her room before returning to the office.

A file was sitting on the desk with only two words in the top right corner: _**Jean Black**_. He wasn't quite certain if he'd found just who he was looking for though. Ever since the war ended and his father was thrown into Azkaban (this time serving a thirty year sentence), the Malfoy family's influence and reach had been shortened considerably, thus making it even more difficult to search for the person he was searching for.

There were no pictures in the file, just a few sheets of paper describing who she was and where she'd come from. He had no way of being certain, but he felt that he'd finally found the elusive Hermione Granger. He felt a stab in his heart thinking about how he had to leave her. He felt his heart crushing at the idea that he'd actually thought she was dead for a time.

But all that had changed when he'd finally been able to get a file of Jean Black, if that was indeed who Hermione was now. He had to see for himself, though. Her last know residence was an apartment in New York City, not far from the building that housed the eastern division of the American Ministry of Magic. He didn't think it was a coincidence that that building was also where she worked.

Deciding the time had finally come, he apparated to an alley not too far from the address of Jean's apartment and set off into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! As usual, I own nothing. Onward!**_

Jean woke up feeling more rested than she had in many months. She also woke up confused at first, then scared. She was in a room she didn't recognize and in a bed that was not her own. She peeled the blanket away from her body carefully and crept toward the door of the dark room.

The window above the bed she'd been sleeping in showed nothing but hills lit silver in the moonlight and several trees leading to a forest some distance away. Collecting herself, Jean tried the door and saw that it was unlocked.

She wasn't in her apartment. That much was painfully obvious. According to her surroundings, she must have been quite a distance away, maybe in Massachusetts or Vermont, but there was something about the landscape that seemed achingly familiar to her. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out once before going downstairs where she could hear voices.

"We have to be delicate when we tell her. Anything could set her off or trigger something. When people lose their memories they can get crazy headaches and flashbacks. We have to make sure we don't scare her, Ron. So that means no hugging." A deep voice said from the kitchen. It felt like Jean had heard it somewhere before but she wasn't sure where.

A headache was slowly building in her head and she blinked hard in an attempt to ignore it. She placed her hand on the wall as she walked through the hall toward the voices.

"But, Harry, she's one of my best friends! I can't just pretend like I don't know her! We've spent 9 months without her and…and she probably doesn't even remember us! She's going to look at us like we're fucking _strangers_ to her! We _grew up_ together!" The other voice, presumably Ron, replied, cracking as if he were about to cry.

Jean could hear Harry shushing him. She stepped forward and the entire kitchen and living room was in her view. Ron had his hands on the counter and his head was hanging. He was shaking and sobbing. Harry was continuing to shush him as he walked closer to him.

"Everything will be alright. You'll see. But you have to understand, Ron, that things are different now. She's lost her memory. It won't return overnight…if ever it does." Harry turned Ron around and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tightly toward him. He rubbed his back comfortingly and continued shushing him.

Jean stood at the entrance of the kitchen horrified. They could only have been talking about her. So, she'd lost her memories. That could only mean that the nightmares that had been plaguing her for the last six months had been flashbacks. But they had always centered on some sort of fight or battle, never anything before that.

Jean Black could only remember very vague facts about her life. Her name was Jean Black. She had friends. Her birthday was June 12, but that didn't feel correct to her. She worked at Phoenix Unlimited but couldn't quite recall how she started working there. She lived in an apartment in New York, but couldn't quite recall when and how she started living there. She knew that her favorite color was and her favorite food but that was the extent of it. Whenever Jean tried to think of something about herself that wasn't generic, her head hurt more and it felt she was hitting a wall. And now she knew why.

"Who am I?" she whispered to herself hoarsely as tears began to cloud her vision.

Hearing this, both Ron and Harry turned to the entrance of the kitchen, immediately letting go of each other and looking at her with wide eyes.

"Her-"

"Jean! You're awake!" Harry cut off whatever it was Ron was going to say. He gestured that she sit down at the table and Ron began pouring a glass of water for her.

Harry and Ron then sat down in front of her and waited until she'd finished drinking her water. Harry spoke up again. "I know you're wondering why you're here and how you got here. We've no intention of hurting you, of course. We're old friends of yours and we've been trying to find you for quite some time."

"But you couldn't. Not really, because my memory was…is missing." Jean said softly as she stared down at the table. She knew Harry and Ron wouldn't hurt her. Somewhere inside, she knew she could trust the two of them with her life. Still, the fact that her memory was gone made her want to cry even more.

Harry reached behind him and grabbed the file he'd kept on his friend for this very occasion. He pushed it toward her slowly and she finally looked up at him.

"Everything you want or need to know about yourself is…in this folder. We know you've been having headaches, possibly from the flashbacks you've been having. You've always been an avid reader, so we figured it might be easier to learn about yourself that way. We don't want to say too much and cause you physical pain. So, just read until your head starts to hurt or whatever. Maybe something you see might jog your memory along." Ron said helpfully after a while.

Jean hadn't opened the folder yet, deciding that she wanted to ask something first. "What's my name? My real name? I don't want…I'd rather hear it from the two of you, since you are, as you put it, old friends."

Ron and Harry gave each other worried looks before a look of determination crossed Ron's face. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled and said, "Hermione. Hermione Jean Granger. That's your real name."

"I thought that my name was Jean Black. I guess I can see where Jean came from. But, what about Black?" she asked.

A pained look crossed Harry's face before he finally answered. "Black came from my godfather. His name was Sirius Black. He…he died a few years ago. Whoever set you up in New York wanted to make it hard for anyone from here to track you. We had a hell of a time trying to find you."

Jean, or Hermione rather, tilted her head slightly. "Where exactly _is_ here?"

"The United Kingdom. Bracknell Forest, Berkshire, England to be exact." Harry answered quickly.

She nodded in understanding, her eyes boring down into the file she had yet to open, before looking back up once more. "Could you please…call me Jean? Until I'm able to sort myself out? This is all so much and that name—"

"Of course, Her-. Jean. Of course." Ron replied with an easy smile. He then got up and pulled Harry with him. "Let us know if you need anything. We'll be in the living room."

They left Jean in silence as she cracked open the file and began reading as she walked upstairs to the guest room she'd previously awakened in.

Draco frowned as he stepped into the apartment Jean Black supposedly resided in. It didn't appear as if anyone really lived there. There were no pictures up on the wall and hardly any furniture. Casting a _hominum revelo_ spell, he figured out there was no one there, nor had there been for some time. He walked into Jean's bedroom and saw that there were no clothes in the closet or drawers. In the kitchen, whatever food that had once been there was now gone.

She was gone. But where? Had someone taken her? There was only one way to find out.

Draco apparated and wound up outside the home of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. For all his misgivings about them in school, they had grown to be two of the most respected Aurors in the Ministry and now they were on better terms with one another. Draco himself was presently interning for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in its Hit Wizard program. He'd decided after his father had been thrown in Azkaban that he wanted to be on the right side of the law. Soon, his job would require him to apprehend extremely dangerous criminals, and he was alright with that.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently, hoping someone would let him in soon as it was nearing one in the morning. He heard footsteps on the other side and the door opened to reveal a rather disheveled Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

"Malfoy. To what do I owe the late visit?" Harry asked breathlessly as he finished buttoning the top of his shirt. Ron peered out from behind him cautiously, taking in the sight of Draco Malfoy on Harry's doorstep.

Draco gestured inside the house and Harry and Ron stepped aside to let them in. Draco took a seat on the sofa while Harry and Ron sat in their respective armchairs. After a long silence, Draco finally asked what he'd come to ask.

"Would you happen to know the location of Jean Black?"


End file.
